


Summer's day

by iridescentglow



Category: The Libertines
Genre: Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-03
Updated: 2007-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescentglow/pseuds/iridescentglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mid-argument. Pete has forgotten the beginning. Same old stuff, round and round. Boring, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer's day

Mid-argument. Pete has forgotten the beginning. Same old stuff, round and round. Boring, really. Then Biggles burst out with,

"I fucking _hate_ you!" That exact inflection. Like he would scream and scream and scream until he was sick.

It's funny that Carlos was the lunatic in this scene. Heroin's not a bad drug, all told; it makes the world beneath you warm and buoyant, a sensation like floating on the surface of a calm sea. But Carl on the other hand, was floppy and uncontrolled; the worn-down creature of binge-drinking. Maybe cocaine, too. Pete recognized a mean twist to his mouth as he spat out the words.

It's important to establish the narcotic base to any given situation. It absolves a little bit of the meaning; makes it easier to say sorry the next day.

"Okay," Pete said, smiling.

"Ok _aaaaa_ y? That's all you're going to s _aaaaa_ y?"

He's a poet! He's a poet! (Not really, let's face it.)

"You fucking hate me," Pete said.

Carl blinked at him. He propped himself up on the corner of the sofa, (before he fell down, probably,) but the result was devastating. His body was loose and slack. He looked sex-sated before they'd even had the sex. _Headfuck_.

Pete said, "You'd like to fuck me." He paused and then added, "Even though you hate me."

Carl looked irritated but momentarily defeated. Another round won for Pete with semantics.

"You've got a smart mouth," Carl said at last. Petulance made Carl's own mouth pout beautifully. Lush and red. Funny how people always describe mouths as _lush_ ; an oasis in the middle of someone's face. But Carl's mouth really was lush as a summer's day, like the first lick of a 99. 

Carl lifted his chin, (tried to do the same with his arms, but only managed a fey flick of his wrist,) and moulded his ice-cream-mouth around a word that might have been, _c'mere_. He exhaled a breath and his body slackened further against the arm of the sofa. He seemed unwilling or unable to move.

Trust Carl to opt out of taking part in his own seduction attempts. Lazy bastard.

Pete submitted to the half-arsed come-on anyway. He hopscotch'ed the few feet of carpet to where Carl was, ending in a big jump that made Carl blink.

"Fuck," Carl muttered, sounding dazed. When he licked his lips, Pete no longer had to fight the urge to rub his thumb against the dent in his lower lip. He pressed down, crushing open Carl's mouth. He twisted his thumb so that it fitted against the warmth of Carl's tongue.


End file.
